An establishment of this kind implies several buildings. The vase turners or makers would be in a separate room from the painters. One or more ovens would be required in a court, with a shed for the storage of raw materials, and for kneading and refining the clay. Lastly, we must assume that there were some rooms for warehousing and a sale-room adjoining the factory, in addition to rooms for the masters and night-watchmen. No matter how modest the staff, it would amount to fifteen or twenty persons, counting not only those in charge of the factory, but labourers and stokers. Upon the hydria at Munich ([Fig. 4]), in a painting necessarily restricted, we can count eight persons. Upon the vase from Ruvo ([Fig. 2]) the studio contains four workers—three men and one woman—all painting. To obtain a correct idea of the staff one must at least treble this number.

Hence a potter like Douris must have superintended a factory representing a commercial enterprise of some importance. We must not think of an artist, who, in his solitary studio, at his leisure and according to his inspiration, sketches subjects or forms for vases, and leaves the execution to others. We must not forget it is an industry. This practical purpose must profoundly influence one’s opinions as to the nature of the potter’s studies, his manner of composing, and the profit he expects from his enterprise.

We will not discuss points of technique which demand too detailed an enquiry, and would raise questions not yet solved. Let us think of the materials as gathered in the hands of the craftsman: clay carefully chosen and refined, colours for glazing and retouching, lustres intended to brighten the natural colour of the clay, and the black for the design, wheels and moulds, rules and compass, sharp points for sketching, brushes of all kinds, etc.

The most commonly used and most valuable ingredient is the black glaze, the composition of which is still unknown; its basis is oxide of iron. It is used for drawings on red clay, to trace features, persons, accessories and decorations, and to cover the background. It is to the Greek what Indian ink is to the draughtsman of Japan. In baking, it takes on a warm, velvety tone, sometimes a little olive, sometimes it becomes in the flames a little yellow or red. It is brightened by a brilliant lustre which frequently produces the effect of a mirror, but it never has the cold or waxy tone which disfigures modern imitations of antique vases. It is thick and rich, and forms, after drying, a slight prominence perceptible to the finger. Lastly, it is indestructible, even by acids, and does not change with time, unless the surface of the clay beneath it has been touched by damp, in which case it flakes off.

The invention of this black was one of the most beautiful discoveries in ancient industry. If we could only discover its formula it would still be of the greatest importance. It was in use from the time of the Mycenæan age, that is to say, more than a thousand years before our era; eventually potters brought it to perfection, increasing its delicacy, thickness and brilliancy. About the time of Douris it had reached its perfection and retained its excellence until the end of the fifth century. After the capture of Athens and the ruin of the potters’ workshops, the recipe was lost or the manufacture of it became neglected, for vases of the fourth century, found in Bœotia and in Southern Italy, show a great deterioration in this respect.

Next to the black, his brush is of the greatest importance to the Athenian artist. Its nature has been much discussed. In some of the illustrations cited, we see it in the hands of workmen while drawing (Figs. [2] and [25]). It consists of a thin handle, doubtless of wood, to which is joined a long and thin point. Some suppose it to be the barbule of a bird’s feather; the feathers of the woodcock are particularly suitable for very delicate lines. In the opinion of others it is merely a hog’s bristle. The brushes vary in thickness according to the number and stoutness of the bristles employed.

The Greeks must have been able to paint with one single bristle, a method requiring great patience and special skill in loading the brush with paint and guiding it on the clay; but in this manner particularly delicate lines of even strength from end to end can be obtained. Experiments have been made with ordinary paint, proving this conclusively. Of course the painter must have had thicker brushes at his disposal with which to trace heavier outlines. The background had to be put in with heavy and broad brushes. But the fine brush is the tool above all others with which the Greek draughtsman accomplished wonderful feats, placing lines of extraordinary delicacy side by side, or throwing out a line at a single stroke, the impeccable straightness of which delights and surprises the eye. We have reason to believe that it was not a tool for craftsmen only. Painters of frescoes and large paintings had the same difficulties to contend with, if we are to give credence to an anecdote by Pliny: for Apelles and Protogenes competed who should draw the most perfect and finest line.

Fig. 8. EOS CARRYING MEMNON, HER DEAD SON.

Kylix by Douris. Louvre Museum.